


Hands On Your Body

by red_crate



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Bondage and Discipline, Bottom Tony Stark, Condoms, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Feels, Future Fic, Hopeful Ending, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Morning After, Top Tony Stark, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 15:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: “In case you had any ideas of sneaking out,” Tony starts. That mind of his, ever maneuvering three steps ahead of the world, is powerful. His sharp brown eyes pin Peter in place as Tony says, “I figured I would stop you.”





	Hands On Your Body

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a labor of love for all of June. My eternal thanks goes to Lavender for being my alpha reader and cheerleader. This wouldn't have happened without her enthusiasm.

There is an arm, draped heavily over Peter's waist when his need to pee wakes him the next morning. The sun isn't even fully over the horizon, hot pink and purple bleeding into a fading navy blue splashed across the sky. Even in his bleary state, Peter can't ignore the perfection that the room's floor to ceiling windows allow. He looks over at Tony where he's curved towards Peter.

  
Dread washes through him as last night's activities flood his consciousness. He's not sore, but his body remembers just the same. He can feel the ghost of Tony's fingerprints all over his skin, recall the delicious stretch of being taken. Peter flushes, looking away from Tony's still sleeping form.

  
He has to pee, and, shameful to admit it, Peter maps out an exit strategy for once he's finished in the bathroom. The things he said, the things he did, so openly and powerfully, have him feeling turned inside out from the inevitable repercussions of it all. There’s no way it could last between them, not with the way they started.

  
Sliding out from the warmth, Peter carefully stands in order to start gathering his clothes. A quiet sigh, and Peter’s head is snapping to look over his shoulder while he stabs one leg, then the other into his wrinkled pants. Tony merely rolls into his back, starfishing and taking up the majority of the bed like his body is used to it. A smudged bruise adorns Tony's right collar bone.

  
Peter calls on his light of foot abilities to get from the night stand to the bathroom without a sound. The expensive swish of his pants legs rubbing together as he moves is as loud as a hurricane to his own ears. After closing the door silently, he relieves himself and washes his hands. His heart is hammering in his ears as the water rushes out of the faucet.

  
He looks the same as ever, when he looks at himself in the mirror. There is no flashing sign over his head, no scarlet letter on his chest, to announce his proclivities. No reason for anyone to look at him and think, that guy sleeps with people for money. And that was the appeal—his appeal, he knows—to the line of work he took up without anyone the wiser.

  
Until last night.

  
He rolls his shoulders and runs a hand through his hair to untangle the knots.

  
Tony is leaning against the wall, casually, when Peter opens the door. The arc reactor casts a soft blue glow against the scarred skin that holds it in place. Peter's touched those hills and valleys, felt the evidence of Tony's will to survive. Now, Peter's surprised gaze travels the length of him as he figures out the least damaging thing—to Tony and to himself—to say.

  
“In case you had any ideas of sneaking out,” Tony starts. That mind of his, ever maneuvering three steps ahead of the world, is powerful. His sharp brown eyes pin Peter in place as Tony says, “I figured I would stop you.”

  
“Oh,” is all Peter has to say at first. This wasn't the plan, nothing in the last twelve or so hours had been planned. He opens his mouth again, but Tony's hand stretches towards him.

  
He lets himself be hooked, pulled away from the doorway and into Tony's personal space. The warm brush of breath across his skin has his eyelids fluttering.

  
After the push-pull of the night before, Peter wants to sink into Tony's arms, his skin, anything to keep from losing everything they have. “Tony.” His voice is rusty and cracks around the vowel.

  
With a shush, Tony draws him closer. His lips graze across Peter's ear when he says, “Stay.”

  
_Stay._

  
Peter has heard that request enough that it's almost lost the flattery it once held. _Him? Someone wants Peter to stay with them?_ But they don't want him, so much as the plaything he represents to them—something else to own and use, something else to keep to theirselves.

  
Peter isn't a thing.

  
“I can't.” Peter closes his eyes tightly to avoid whatever look crosses Tony's face.

  
He can't. He shouldn't.

  
He should have left the moment he heard the growl of Tony's car pulling up for valet as he waited for the night’s client. Waiting for the confirmation of his client’s identity was a folly.

  
“Hey,” Tony coaxes quietly. “If you need to go, then you need to go, but I don't want you thinking you need to slink out of here.” His arm is still curved around Peter's waist, and his palm is a warm presence against his spine.

  
_Black business card with shiny black typeface and that was all it took to for Tony’s confusion to lace with a muted anger. “No.”_  
 _Like that would change anything about the situation._

  
“I'm not going to apologize for what I've been doing.” Peter may still crave—might even always want—Tony's approval, but he isn't going to repent for making the choices that he has made.

  
Tony waits to see if Peter is going to say anything else. When silence begins to hang between them, when it starts to feel like a great stone has fallen in Peter's gut, Tony lifts his free hand to cup Peter's jaw.

  
_“What are you getting out of doing this?” Voice soft and almost broken rolling over the nape of Peter’s neck as hands skimmed his sides._

  
_Peter pressed back as his eyes slipped closed. “Control.”_

  
“You don't have to.” He presses his lips together in a brief glimpse of the frustration he'd unleashed when they hurdled through confrontation. Then he says, “I should be the one apologizing. I was...conflicted, and worried.” A breath and then, “I’m sorry.”

  
Peter doesn't think there is much to be sorry for, as long as Tony isn't sorry for him. He doesn’t want Tony to regret last night. That thought makes his stomach flip, and he reaches up to gently pull at the hand on his jaw. “It's okay. That's exactly why I didn't want anyone to know.” He snorts lightly. “I'm relieved to have confirmation that you don't track my every movement though. I kept worrying you were going to show up at my place demanding I quit, or that you would shut down the business I work for.”

  
Somehow, it's easier to say this now. The sun is creeping up, and a soft light fills the room. It feels like a beginning, fresh. The night, full of heated words and heated touches, is behind them, and it looks like Peter's world hasn't lost its axis just yet. He swipes his thumb along the inside of Tony's palm where he's still holding it like a bridge between them.

  
There's a shadow that crosses Tony's face for a moment, and Peter knows exactly what he's thinking. He steps forward, barely hesitating to act on the impulse. When he drops their hands down and threads their fingers, Tony squeezes his hand.

  
“No,” Peter says, “I don't want twenty-four/seven surveillance. And I don't think I could trust you if you tried that.” He gives into the almost physical pull Tony has, still such a new concept—that he might be able to touch as he pleases, even if only until this unexpected encounter is closed.

  
Tony's other hand comes up, holding him closer when Peter drops his forehead to rest against his shoulder. “I learned my lesson there.” Peter can just make out the shape of Tony's smile pressed into his hair. “I remember the way you ripped the tracking capabilities right out of the first suit I made for you.”

  
“Yeah, well, it sucked. I know you wanted to keep me safe, but you also knew that wasn't part of the deal when it comes to the superhero gig.” He says this without heat. They've been over this enough in the past that it's more of a habit than a real conflict. Peter sets his free hand on Tony's side. They aren't hugging, but it feels nice. It feels like acceptance.

  
“Kid, look at me.” Tony leans back a little until Peter does as he said. The intensity of Tony's gaze invites a rush of warmth over his skin.

Tony says, “I'll never stop wanting you safe. Never.”

  
Gently, Tony runs his fingers through Peter's hair as he says, “You're an adult now, clearly,” gaze dating down briefly to Peter's mouth, “and I trust you to make smart decisions and use precautions when you can.”

  
That's what Peter had wanted to say last night, when his fear and anger got in his way. Haven't I proven myself enough for you to take me seriously? And Tony must have listened to him, felt it in every touch and every inch of surrender. It's not what Peter expects from him.

  
The fight still left in him, which had started to build once more when he woke up, is swept out of him. His shoulders loosen, and he exhales. “I know last night was...” He casts about for the right word to describe the incredible, terrible things had happened. “Something else, and it wasn't supposed to happen that way.” Peter grazes his bottom lip with his teeth. “But I want just one more kiss.”

  
He watches Tony's jaw flex before closing the short distance between the two of them. Just before their lips meet, Tony sighs, “Yes,” like a prayer, barely audible.

  
Peter sinks into it, every bit as soft and longing as it had been sharp and rushed last night. Equally as effective, equally as devastatingly good. Sliding their tongues together, Peter deepens the kiss, feet shuffling forward so their chests brush. The arc reactor is a smooth warmth against his galloping heart.

  
Nipping at his lip, Tony breaks the kiss to trail his mouth over Peter's jaw and down his neck. It's more than a single kiss, and Peter needs to stop before he loses any chance of getting over this.

  
“I didn't want to make you feel obligated because of some feeling of misplaced debt or leftover hero worship.” Tony pulls back so he can look at Peter once again. He continues, “But I can't deny I didn't want this. Never in a million years did I think that it could happen this way, but I'll take it. I want you to stay. I _always_ want you to stay.”

  
There's no going back from this. As adamantly as he had told himself just this once and it doesn't really mean anything, Peter is slammed with the truth he'd been hiding from. Tony has been a fixed point in his life since he was old enough to know what a hero looked like. Knowing Tony personally has only cemented him into part of who Peter is. It's scary as hell to be given the one desire he has had in some shape or form for the majority of his life.

  
This could actually be more than just the culmination of some dark, cosmic joke being played on him.

  
He deflects it, still, asking, “Even though I've let people fuck me for money?” He uses the crassist phrase he can despite not having shame of his own. It's the deep seated fear of being found out and judged not worthy, that has Peter defensive even now, even in the light of day with the evidence scattered around his feet.

  
“So what?” Tony smiles sharply, a shade of wisdom shining in his expression. “You think I haven't done the same thing, if not by the most literal interpretation?”

  
Peter lets Tony turn them so he's pressed up against the wall now. No force, just assurance. Tony continues, “What does it say about me, that I've been on both sides of the equation? How many people have judged me and found me guilty of being irresponsible?”  
Peter doesn't know what to say to that. Tony has never been shy about his past, the womanizing and partying he used to do, but that was before. Then again, they're here because Tony contacted the escort service and placed a request. Clearly, Tony is no saint even now, with the ghost of those hands around Peter's hips.

  
Instead of speaking, Peter lifts up to press his lips against Tony's. He shouldn't stay, but this is the first time he wants to after being asked.

  
Tony gasps into the kiss, deepening it with his tongue as he tugs Peter closer. Want courses through Peter all over again.

  
Even last night, Peter has wanted Tony—all hard angles and sharp strokes. Now, Tony tugs him along where Peter had shoved him last night.

  
They bounce on the mattress, Tony's laugh rushing over Peter's lips when their teeth clack together. He's spread, thighs wide, across Tony's lap with Tony's fingers pressing into the skin above his pants.

  
“Why are you wearing these?” Tony complains as he fumbles with the closure. “You were naked when we went to sleep.”

  
Peter’s face feels warm, remembering his exit plan from earlier. He isn't going anywhere now. Leaning up on his knees, he helps Tony shove his pants down before rolling off Tony to kick them all the way off.

  
“You don't get paranoid with all these windows?” Peter asks suddenly. It's daylight now, if only just. Everything is bright, lacking shadows to hide in. When Tony kisses his shoulder, he looks over at them.

  
“Reflective glass and shielding,” Tony explains casually, taking Peter by the arm and pulling. “Besides, the closest house is three miles from here.”

  
The slide of their bare legs, hair catching just slightly, grounds Peter. He's really right here with Tony, still.

  
“Don't get shy on me now.” Tony coaxes as his hands slide up Peter's back. It's then that Peter realizes he's half hard. Their cocks brush against each other in a shivery tease when Tony lifts to kiss up the length of his neck.

  
“Not shy,” Peter exhales harshly. Tony must have noticed that particularly sensitive area just below his jaw. “Just cautious.”

  
Tony hums, teeth scraping lightly and drawing a shudder from Peter. “I've got it covered, trust me.”

  
Peter's eyes close as he surrenders to his desire, trusting just like Tony asked of him. He wraps his arms around Tony's shoulders so their chests press together. The angle brings their cocks closer, and he rocks his hips, sitting in Tony's lap. It's erotic and comforting in equal measure. Not enough to get him off, but enough to make him want it all the more.

  
He tips his head down to kiss Tony once more, deeply. The blunt nails that drag down his back remind him of the harness he'd worn last night, hidden upon request from a then unknowing Tony, beneath his dress shirt. Peter groans with the hot swirl of prickly shame that sweeps across him at the memory of how the leather straps had been used to push his body this way and that as Tony fucked him.

  
He arches his back, feeling breathless as he gasps into Tony's mouth. “It costs extra for me to stay the night.”

  
Tony's hands tighten on his waist briefly, before he untenses and slides his fingers lower. The expression on Tony's face is calculating. He says, “That ship sailed a few hours ago, but I think I can afford it.”

  
Peter can't help the smile that spreads across his lips. He rolls his hips languidly so the tip of Tony's cock smears across his abdomen. “So what do you want?” He's playing with the soft hair at the base of Tony's skull, dragging his fingertips lightly across the scalp.

  
_Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. His eyes were burning with conviction as he said, “You don't know the kind of shit you're getting into with this. It's dangerous in a whole different way.”_

  
_“Like this?” Peter hurriedly unbuttoned his dress shirt to push it off and yank aside the V of his tee collar. “Bought and paid for with your money, at your request.” He tugged the shirt off all the way, bearing his chest and the simple black leather harness he had been wearing all night. “I don't take jobs with clients or requests I don't like. That should tell you something.”_

  
_Tony, to his credit, didn't budge when Peter stepped into his space. His eyes slid down Peter's form, betraying the desire hidden behind worry. “Did you know it was me?” His words came out evenly without a leading tone, side stepping Peter's point with his own._

  
_Peter held his gaze for a beat, before saying, “No.”_

  
“I already told you.” Tony goes serious, arms curling low around Peter's waist. They're hugging, naked and tangled together. “I want you, any way I can have you.”

  
That's a conversation Peter doesn't want to have right now, even if he knows he wants the same thing. It's too difficult to say yes to himself when there is so much at risk. Not yet, but soon.

  
“What do you want right now?” He asks with a gentle tone, pressing his face down into the crook of Tony's neck.

  
There's a beat of silence before Tony sighs silently. Leaning back, he reaches up and traces a finger along the curve of Peter's chin. “I want you to fuck me.” He arches an eyebrow on challenge, as if he expects Peter's reaction.

  
“You do?” Peter asks too quickly. His cock had jerked at Tony's words, giving away his obvious interest. “Uh...” His heartbeat kicks into double, getting harder at the thought.

  
Tony smirks, curling the same finger he had used to trace Peter's chin. He kisses him softly. “Unless that's not on the table. No judgement.” His other hand is lower on his hips, pulling Peter closer when Tony rocks his hips up.

  
“I kinda figured you didnt...I mean, the bondage stuff?” Peter babbles his reasoning.

  
“I like a lot of things. Yesterday I wanted to unwind with someone willing to let me push them around a little. Today, I want you to hold me down with that superhuman strength of yours and fuck me.” Tony speaks so matter of factly, like it isn't some kind of revelation, hot and dirty, enticing. The slight curl of his mouth when he finishes talking is the only indication that he knows how it might affect Peter.

  
Peter can't look at him any longer, has to close his eyes and press a bruising kiss to Tony's lips. They're both leaking between their stomachs. Clearly, Tony isn't unaffected.  
“I haven't fucked anyone like that before.”

Peter confides when Tony rolls them back down to their sides. It's his last major first left, and Peter feels overwhelmed with possibility.

  
Tony groans, hand wrapping around both their cocks lightly, stroking. “Really?” He makes a sound from the back of his throat and nips at Peter's earlobe. Against the delicate skin, he asks sweetly, “Will you fuck me?”

  
“Yeah,” Peter agrees, tipping them once more until he is between Tony's legs, kneeling over him. “Not sure how long I'll last.”

  
Tony squeezes Peter's waist with his knees. “You lasted long enough last night.” He tugs Peter down to kiss him. “I'm pretty sensitive anyway.”

  
“Fuck,” Peter murmurs to himself, eyelids dropping when Tony says that.

  
He's had sex, outside of his escort work, a total of two times. Only one of those had been penetrative, and it has been over quickly. He wants to make this good, apply everything he's learned from being in the other side, so to speak.

  
Tony uses Peter's momentary shock to flip into his stomach, pillowing his head on crossed arms. “I like it like this, if you don't mind.”

  
Peter sits on his haunches, looking at the length of Tony's back and down where the swell of his ass sits above those powerful thighs. He'd like to face Tony as he fucks him, but there's no denying the appeal of this position. Besides, he knows from experience he will be able to get deeper this way.

  
_Next time_ , his mind whispers.

  
“Okay.” He finds the bottle of lube, retrieving it from the foot of the bed where it was left tangled in the sheets from last night. “Do you want a condom?” Peter is thankful for the privacy when his face heats up at the question. They hadn't used one last night, because Peter had asked him not to.

  
Tony inhales sharply. “I'd prefer not to, really, but I'd like to avoid the mess.” He lifts his head to look at Peter, eyes darting to Peter's lap with his last word. His tongue slips out to glide across his bottom lip.

  
Come has dried on the inside of Peter's thighs, mostly flaked away at this point. But it feels like a brand hot on his skin with Tony's gaze lingering.

  
Peter could feel insecure about that, but all he feels is wanted in the most carnal way. The thrill of being asked to fuck Tony while being denied marking him from the inside makes Peter want even more.

  
An interesting revelation to himself that he'll need to examine later.

  
“Not a problem,” he agrees, rolling the bottle between his palms as he processes all of this quickly. Peter flicks the lid open with his thumb, and Tony lowers his head back down.

  
As he pulls a knee up, Tony says, “The drawer.” Peter watches the way Tony brings his knees beneath himself, splayed, to lift his ass in the air teasingly. “Get it.”

  
That snaps him back into motion, using his free hand to reach for the bedside table. He finds a neat stack of condoms at the front of the drawer and grabs one. Peter drops the little packet to the bed before squeezing out a generous amount of lube on his fingers.

  
Tony's thigh is warm, solid beneath his palm when Peter runs his clean hand up the length of it. Curving his fingers over the firmness of one ass cheek, Peter squeezes gently. If he didn't have enhanced hearing, he would have missed the quietly pleased sigh Tony let out. His own heartbeat pounds in his ears.  
Peter wets his lips, deciding to stop hesitating. Tony has blown past his walls, and truthfully Peter never had fortifications strong enough to keep Tony out.

  
After letting go of the hold he had, Peter leans forward and braces that same hand on the mattress by Tony's shoulder. The bump-slide of his cock over Tony's ass is deliberate even as it makes them both shiver.

Mouth dragging over Tony's shoulder blade, he asks, “Like this?” The words are punctuated by his fingers slipping between Tony's cheeks to smear the line along his crease, downwards. When his middle finger catches against his rim, Peter traces the opening.

  
“Fuck,” Tony swears under his breath. He hisses when Peter nips at his shoulder experimentally. “You really know what you're doing, don't you.” It isn't a question or an accusation, just a simple statement as Tony groans pleasurably.

  
“It’s what I'm paid the big bucks for, right?” Peter asks as he pushes up slowly from where he was draped over Tony. His finger carefully sinks into the heat of the man below him.

  
“And I thought,” Tony grunts quietly, “it was just for the pleasure of your company.”

  
Grinning, Peter works his finger in and out. “I don't think I could charge that much for a coffee date.”

  
“Depends on the coffee,” Tony counters, voice straining slightly when Peter adds a second finger. “Yeah, fuck that’s good.”

  
It's surreal, having Tony laid out on the bed before Peter like this, two fingers fucking slowly in and out of him. Peter had fantasies about sex with Tony, too many to count over the years, but this wasn't something he'd thought to imagine.

“How many do you want?” He spreads his fingers, twisting them. Now that he's here, he sort of really likes the idea of taking his time.  
Tony is bearing down on the breach, breath coming just a little bit quicker. Peter can smell the sweat starting to bead up along his hairline; it seamlessly meshes with the musk of his precome.

  
“Another,” Tony answers. He's rocking minutely back and forth, shoulders tense. A curse word escapes with his exhale, “Right there.”

  
Peter smirks when his fingers glance, purposefully, over Tony's prostate. “Good?” He asks, pressing the same way again slowly. The clench and flutter of Tony around him is incredible. He has to grab his cock and squeeze it, so viscerally able to imagine how good he'll feel once he pushes inside.

  
“Goddamn, tease.” It's a moot complaint considering Peter is fucking his fingers in and out, aiming right for his prostate. “Glove up, kid, and fuck me for real.” The groan he lets out when Peter works the tips of his fingers just slightly is addictive.

  
Peter wants to make Tony sound like that again.

  
“Shit, shit, shit.” Peter carefully removes his fingers to grab the condom packet. It slides between his fingers until he wipes them off on the sheet.

  
While he pulls the condom on, he watches the way Tony snakes a hand beneath himself. It's on the tip of his tongue to tell Tony not to touch himself, but a duel heat swirls in his stomach at the thought of being chastised for directing the other man. Instead, he takes his time adjusting the condom, making sure the reservoir is just right, and adding a little more lube to slick the way. All the while, desire and need build inside as he denies himself.

  
It doesn't take long.

  
“What, are you waiting for an engraved invitation?” Tony sounds just a little impatient as he jacks his hand once, twice, up and down his cock. “Get in me. Show me how good of a fuck you are.”

  
The command spikes through him, hooking him behind the navel and tugging him forward. He lets out an involuntary noise as he scoots a little closer to Tony. Wetting his lips, he presses the top of his cock in slowly. A false start that makes him bite his lip and Tony raise his ass up a bit, but then Peter is sliding in easily. It's a tight, hot grip around his cock that is like the heights of ecstasy and the depths of hell rolled together.

  
He can't even form a solid word once he is seated fully. His hands are wrapped around Tony's waist, white knuckled, as he fights off the initial need to pull right back so he can slam in over and over. Once he can trust himself, he starts rocking his hips in measured thrusts. He loosens his hold on Tony’s waist, belatedly remorseful for the bruising that is sure to be left behind.

  
“God damn, that's good.” Tony drops his forehead to the mattress and pushes back against Peter as if trying to get him even deeper. “You're doing so good, baby. Fuck me hard; I know you can do it.”

  
The praise is a shot of adrenaline to Peter, he's had other men say that to him—usually when he was on his knees and swallowing them down—but not like this. And none of them were Tony, _his_ Tony, who has known him through his best and his worst and still wants him. Peter slides his hands down to the sides of his thighs and physically forces Tony's legs wider. The manipulation affords just a little more room to push in. Tony cries out in shocked arousal.

  
Peter is so hard, he feels like he'll burst any moment. But he slows his movements, pulling out in a long glide before pushing right back in sharply. “Oh God, oh God,” he chants under his breath. “You feel too good.”

  
Tony shoves back, rocking himself back and forth on Peter's cock. “You've no idea. Fuck, kid.” He gasps, shuddering when Peter follows intuition and moves to push Tony down by the shoulders and fuck into him like a piston.

  
He won't last very long like this. Tony feels too good, and Peter is too sensitive. All he can do is his best to get Tony off before he ruins it by coming too soon. “I don't know how long I can hold off.” He says the words through grit teeth, pushing down on Tony's shoulders and angling his hips so he reaches Tony's prostate.

  
_Peter let himself be pushed into the bed, breathless with anticipation as Tony kneeled on the bed between his knees. “Of course I want you,” Tony growled as his fingers deftly pulled his dress shirt off and tossed it to the floor behind him._

  
_Peter was already naked head to toe, having stripped quickly before falling to his knees in the foyer. He could still taste the precome on his lips, and he wanted more._

  
_“Now,” Tony started, leaning forward to curl his fingers around the thin leather harness wrapped around Peter's chest, “you said you're into this.” His eyes were deep pools in the moonlight coming in from the windows. His voice darkened when he said, “Are you going to be my good boy?”_

  
_A thrill shot straight through Peter, making his cock kick against his stomach. Anyone else who asked that kind of question, and Peter would moan prettily and happily say “yes.”_

  
_This was Tony, the man Peter didn't know how to not want. He always wanted Tony proud of him, thinking of him, wanting him in any way._

  
_“Please let me,” he answered too honestly, eyes slipping closed when Tony tugged on the harness and levered him up._

  
_He would never forget the broken, desperate sound Tony made just before sealing the arrangement between them with a biting kiss._

  
“You can,” Tony pants out his insistence. The sweat on his back glistens in the early morning sunlight, muscles tensing and bunching beneath the surface. Peter wants to lick along the curve and dips, taste him. Tony bucks at the pressure Peter has on his shoulders until he gets the hint, leaning up on his knees once again.

  
With his hands braced on the bed, Tony pulls away until Peter's cock slips free, ripping a moan from each of them. He looks over his shoulder and says, “Hold still for me.” Tony reaches back to hold Peter's cock in place as he pushes his ass back onto it.

  
The sight is enough to make Peter whimper, hands hovering just shy of touching. “Tony.” His voice breaks.

  
“Fuck, you feel just as good this way as you do from the inside.” Tony speaks as he slowly drags almost all the way back off Peter's cock. “Just stay right there, baby. Let me take care of it.”

  
Peter's eyelids drop, throat going tight. Tony wanted him to hold him down as he fucked him, but Peter hasn't been able to complete the task. The deep, tender tone in Tony's voice spears through Peter. “But...”

  
“So good. You feel so fucking good. Exactly what I want.” Tony’s pace picks up, slamming back and forth, hands twisted in the bedsheet. “Just stay right there for me. I'm so close.”

  
The cold stab of failure disappears as Peter clings to Tony's voice, his command. He bites his bottom lip and rests his hands lightly on the top of Tony's ass.

  
The intrinsic power contained in Tony's body is mesmerizing. Peter curves his hands down slowly to glide over the tops of his thighs and the tenses muscle there. Tony might like the idea of Peter using his strength on him, but Peter can't deny his own fascination with every fiber of hard-won and practical muscle the other man has.

  
“Can I touch you?” Peter asks, skimming one hand towards his hips again.

  
Tony nods his head. “Yeah, do it. I want your hand around me when I come.” He moans loudly when Peter’s fingers wrap around his cock and form a tunnel for him to slide in as he fucks himself back and forth.

  
The hot clutch of Tony, drives Peter closer and closer to the edge. “Please, please, please,” he mutters the words over and over, desperate for Tony to come. He smooths his fingers over the slippery head of Tony’s cock to slick the slide of his hand around the shift.

  
Tony’s skin is velvety smooth and as hard as steel in his hand. It’s impossible not to think back to the way it had felt in his mouth last night, a heavy weight on his tongue. His mouth waters at the memory. The sudden shock and silence of Tony when Peter went to his knees right there by the elevator door to swallow him down replays in Peter’s mind now. He moans, overwhelmed by every inch of touch between them, every breath passing, everything about the two of them together like this.

  
“Peter,” Tony cries out, slamming backwards and spasming around Peter’s cock as he spills hotly over Peter’s fist. The word morphs into a low, drawn out groan. “ _Now_ , baby.” He demands, voice deep but brittle in the middle of orgasm.

  
“Oh my God. I’m coming. I’m coming.” Peter can’t shut up, as he chants Tony’s name. His orgasm rips through his body, washing his higher fuction away completely for a long moment.

  
All he feels is ecstasy.

  
“Fuck that was good,” Tony comments as he slumps onto his side.

  
The slide of his body off Peter’s sensitive cock makes him shudder, but everything feels too good for the loss to detract at all. For his part, Peter backs off the bed on shaky legs to clean up.

  
Tony beats him to it, sitting up and grabbing the box of tissue from the nightstand. He tugs Peter by the hips until he’s standing between his legs. Looking up at him, sweaty and relaxed, Tony’s smile is lopsided. “You did good, kid.”

  
Peter doesn’t really feel in control of his body yet, but consciousness is right there around the edges. He reacts to Tony’s smile with one of his own. “Thanks.”

  
“Any time.” Tony chuckles quietly and leans forward to kiss Peter right above the belly button. He catches Peter's eye briefly.

_“I want you any way I can have you,”_ bounces through Peter's mind, enticing, imploring.

Then Tony is plucking a tissue from the box and deftly removing the condom to toss the wad into the trash can. He uses a second tissue to wipe at the lube smeared in Peter’s neatly trimmed pubic hair. Sighing contentedly as he pulls Peter on top of him, Tony leans backwards.

They're the same height, but Peter tucks his head under Tony's chin when they're on again lying on the bed. It feels good, safe, in Tony's arms, with the faint glow of the arc reactor bouncing off his closed eyelids. The slowing beat of Tony's heart is strong.

  
Peter wants to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this! <3  
> Title from "Mine" by Bazzi.


End file.
